


a passage of time

by gacrux



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-OT3, ohtaka is a narrative genius tbh, relationship study?, still trying to figure out how actually modern sinbad's parthevia is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5639902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gacrux/pseuds/gacrux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The years between are the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a passage of time

So, he's a little tipsy, but he feels absolutely no regret about it. They're supposed to be ringing in the new year with a grandeur festival in Parthevia, but he's feeling far from celebratory. It's year two without Judar, Alibaba, his entire fucking _country_ , so he's drinking something rough right from the bottle, because Sinbad is a conniving piece of shit, and Kouen was right, and he misses Judar, and he wishes he could undo what he did to Alibaba, and he's so _stupid_ how could he let any of this happen? It's all his fault. Over and over again, all he can think is, _all my fault, I killed them both, I exiled my brothers, I ruined my country, I've failed, I've failed, I'm so sorry_.

 

He leans over the edge of the balcony, face hot. There's no wind here, just dry air and hot fumes. It's Sinbad's booming metropolis, Parthevia, and far below the festival is thriving. The lights are muted from up here, but the gold glow is still stunning. The courtyard, modernized as most things are now, is dressed up and garnished like the palace in Sindria used to be. The attendees all marvel at the lavishness of it all, drinking in the billowing tapestries, sets of gold and silver, carefully decorated furnishings, bejewelled with gaudy emeralds, rubies, and sapphires.

 

Hakuryuu could spit on them all for their ignorance. This is Sinbad's selfishness, his desire to have his cake and eat it too. It's fake; they all look like ants playing a game of dress-up. Poorly.

 

Actually, he might really vomit on them if he keeps leaning over the edge like this. He steps back, one hand tight to the railing, the other squashed against his forehead in a bid to cool himself down. He's got a headache, he feels like shit, and he cannot stand to be in this awful country any longer. He wants to go home.

 

_Home_.

 

The thought skips once and sinks like a stone. He can't go home. He has no home. Rakushou isn't home anymore, not without his family–most of whom are either permanently installed in Parthevia next to that complete bastard of a dictator and won't speak to him for reasons unknown (Hakuei), exiled and out of his reach unless he tries suspiciously hard to get in contact with them (Kouen, Koumei, Kouha), or just generally not around anymore (Kougyoku). So his home is empty, his country is dying, things have all gone according to Sinbad's plans, and it's entirely Hakuryuu's fault that any of it happened in the first place. If he'd done just about _anything_ other but what he did, Kouen might have stood a chance fighting against Sinbad and his reign of fucking terror.

 

When he opens his eyes, he finds Morgiana watching him from the doorway. He's feeling too sluggish to flinch, but he's pretty sure his heart just hiccuped at the sight of her.

 

“Sneaky.” He comments, scrubbing a hand through his hair. The other remains attached to the railing, because he's still not sure he trusts himself to stand properly without help.

 

“Not really. You left the door open.”

 

“Oh.” His mistake, then.

 

Morgiana blinks at him, slowly, maybe amused. He's gotten better at reading her since they reunited two years back, but she's still ridiculously stolid sometimes. He's heard from Aladdin that Alibaba had the same problem with her, and he felt sort of reassured. Enough that he didn't stop to second-guess himself every time he spoke to her. Now it's just - quiet. They're a quiet pair, always have been, but at least the quiet they share now is amicable.

 

She moves close, taking his one arm over her neck while her other hand goes to his waist. She supports him as they trudge inside, some unspoken decision, or maybe just a choice she's made and he'll follow her lead anywhere so he goes willingly. She smells like flowers, or maybe it's honey today. She's taken to perfumes lately, for some reason. He asked her about it once and she went red in the face and he hasn't asked since. She's cute when she's embarrassed, but she's also gets a touch annoyed, and he still feels like he's treading on thin ice with the pair of them, her and Aladdin. He knows, logically, that that's not the case, but he can't always be the pinnacle of logic and rationale. Hakuryuu just barely manages to resist the urge to laugh at himself because, wow, the _irony –_ but he doesn't, because it would give Mor the wrong impression, and he'd have to explain himself. He's over-thinking again. This is awful, and exactly why he doesn't drink.

 

She sits him firmly on one of the three beds in the suite and proceeds to sit across from him on the other. He watches as she settles the creases of her pale, airy dress over her thighs; it crisscrosses loosely across her back, falls down her shoulders in waves of white, splits into strips that display her arms, the v of her collarbone, flashes of her hips.

 

Morgiana knocks her bare foot against his calf, a pointed little motion that startles him back to life. He rubs the back of his neck and feels as ungainly as usual in Morgiana's presence when he's not got all his wits about him.

 

“You're not doing very well.” She comments. He agrees with that assessment.

 

“I don't like it here.” Bitterness seeps into his voice, and he can't help it. “And I don't like _him_. I wish I'd-” He stops, sighs, buries his head in his hands.

 

“This is still about Alibaba, isn't it.” Morgiana says, like it's a fact, and it _is_ but she doesn't need to know that. When he glances up, she's smiling softly. “It's okay. I miss him too.”

 

“But you didn't kill him, Morgiana!” The words fly from his lips and he regrets them immediately because they make him feel worse. So much worse. She's not shaken though; her eyes are wide, but calm. She shakes her head like he's missed something obvious and he looks to the ceiling for answers. As usual, he finds no more there than he does anywhere else. He shouldn't think about Alibaba. He shouldn't regret what he did. He's not _allowed_ to, because when he made the decision to sever Alibaba's soul from his body he was ready for the consequences. He was ready to be permanently outcast from his friends, ready to die alone or, maybe, by Judar's side. So it's not right to wish he hadn't done it, or to want forgiveness, or to hope if – when – Alibaba returns, he doesn't hate him. He's such a fool.

 

“How many times do we have to tell you.” Morgiana wonders, still smiling so softly, like he's something fragile. “When he comes back, he'll forgive you. Alibaba isn't good at holding grudges.” She tells him, like it's a fact and she's sure of it. The two of them, Morgiana and Aladdin, keep telling him not to worry. Hakuryuu isn't so naive. He knows things will be different. No one can just _forgive_ their murderer. How could he ever expect that?

 

So he doesn't. At least, he tries. Trying to train himself into expecting a reality where Alibaba hates him is, unfortunately, a very slow way to torture himself.

 

Morgiana huffs a near inaudible sigh and switches sides, coming to sit next to him on his bed. She reaches out, grabs his hand, and clamps it down between her fingers. It kind of hurts a little because Mor isn't gentle by nature, but it's fine. It helps, and she knows it. She does this when she thinks her words have fail; it's a little habit of hers that he's noticed. She does it to Aladdin, and she's done it to Masrur in the past. She even tried it on Kougyoku, before the princess became something of a recluse and refused to see any of them.

 

Slowly, she laces her fingers with his. Her hands are warm and smooth, and it sort of makes him want to cry – but he won't. He just wishes things had been different. He wishes a thousand and one things, but most of all he wishes that he hadn't used Belial on Alibaba. Aladdin and Morgiana are sure he'll come back some day, but Hakuryuu can't be optimistic. And it's the same with Judar, if he comes back and finds Hakuryuu so changed, will he still want to stay? Will he still think Hakuryuu is a worthy king candidate? He knows his Rukh have changed, he spoke with Aladdin about it on a dreary afternoon back in Rakushou, shortly before they were invited to this pompous festival, and Aladdin had been so pleased. But Judar's Rukh are black as pitch, unchanging, and what will he think if he comes back to this? His head is such a mess. Aladdin says that Judar will stay with him, and Alibaba will forgive him, and everything will be just fine as long as he makes his own decisions, and Aladdin even insists it doesn't matter what colour his Rukh are as long as it's his choice to be that way, but it _can't_ be that simple. It just can't. Things are never that simple.

 

His thoughts are spinning circles around each other, and Morgiana is rubbing circles into the skin of his hand with her thumb, quiet but persistent. She does this until Aladdin comes back much later with a basket full of food, a cheeky smile, and reassurances that everything is going to plan, Sinbad doesn't suspect a thing. They'll be able to disappear in a matter of weeks.

 

Hakuryuu can only hope he's making the right decision this time.


End file.
